


A Show of Loyalty

by PastelPrinceling



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, Humiliation, Illustrated, M/M, Mild Gore, Public Sex, Royalverse, bdsm undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelPrinceling/pseuds/PastelPrinceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whispers spread through the castle at an alarming rate after the crest of the Haywood family is found on the cloak of a would be assassin. Gavin calls the Captain of the King's Guard before him to demand answers. To demand a show of loyalty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Show of Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venjolras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venjolras/gifts).



> A long overdue raffle prize for ufreemywood on tumblr. They participated in a stream that was held by literallynsfw to help Monty Oum and family with medical bills. This is a collaboration between literallynsfw and myself. I did the writing, they did all the wonderful artwork. Be sure to give them some love for the awesome artwork.
> 
> Hope you like it ufreemywood!

“I mean, he’s got potential, but he’s raw. He’s fiery. He’s fierce and stubborn.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” a soft chuckle, “Or someone I knew before he ended up this old man with silver creeping into his beard.”

“Don’t even start with me, boy. I don’t have a single grey hair on my head.”

A hand reached, slow and calculating, brushing through dark hair before he plucked on single hair, quick and firm. He let it shine in the light of the torches on the walls, a smile spread across his face. Grey as the clouds clinging to the sky outside the castle walls.

“You were saying?”

Geoff slapped Ryan’s hand away quickly, “Well _now_ there’s not! Not a single, solitary hair, and if you try to pull more of my hair out, I’m gonna start pulling yours.”

“And then where will we be, Geoff, two school children yanking hair and calling names,” Ryan laughed, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah well, you’re a doo doo face anyway, so…”

The two dissolved into laughter at that, soft and subtle, just between the two of them. Stationed outside the king’s door, they had to find some way to pass the long nights, and small talk usually helped. An ear out for the king, should he call for them, but something to keep them alert and awake. The captain of the king’s guard, and his lieutenant. Ryan, and his oldest, dearest friend Geoff.

Ryan paused, lifting his head and a hand to listen in on the bedroom their king slept in. He hadn’t heard anything, but he liked to be sure. One could never be too cautious. He’d never failed to stop harm from coming to the king until now, and he wasn’t going to start tonight.

“Honestly Geoff, I think that the you really should consider letting Michael train under you. He’s spent a lot of his life doing things he didn’t like, and now that he’s finally free, he wants to train to be a knight. And even if you are an old geezer, you’re an old geezer who knows what he’s doing. I don’t see anyone better to teach him than you,” Ryan continued, smiling lightly for his partner.

“He wants to train under me, but is he even going to listen to me is the problem Ry- Old geezer?!” Geoff’s nose wrinkled, and with it, his mustache twitched. A gesture that always made Ryan smile, “Who are you calling an old geezer? You’re laying it on thick tonight, _kid_. I am only six years older than you.”

“Right, which means you were six when I was born. That’s practically old enough to be my father!”

Geoff groaned quietly, rolling his eyes. He leaned back into his position on the left of the doorway. He glared daggers at Ryan, who could only laugh at his anger, knowing very well it was harmless banter more than anything else. He teased Geoff for being old, and Geoff teased Ryan for being King Gavin’s lapdog. It was an even trade, as far as Ryan was concerned.

Ryan shifted back to his own position ot the right, settling in for a long night, just like all nights before it. He and Geoff had time in the morning house when they were relieved of duty and allowed to rest, where capable hands kept an eye on the king in their stead.

Smiles faded slowly to neutral expressions, the both of them able to appreciate the silence of the castle. Aside from the fact the castle was never silent. Even in the dreary hours of the night, there were maids washing, or cooks preparing, guards shifting and making their rounds. At least the songbirds that took up roost on every rafter in the castle were quiet through the night. If they weren’t, if their songs kept the king up, Ryan would probably have to pluck every one of them.

In the relative quiet of the castle, it wasn’t hard to hear things closeby. He could hear Geoff breathing next to him, the subtle shift of his armor, or the soft tink of his sword’s sheath against the stone wall behind him. Barely anything in the grand scheme, but he kept an ear out. Assassination attempts weren’t something they were shy to, but it was always something they were prepared for.

He watched Geoff in the corner of his eye, his hair standing on end, and he heard something, a clink of metal. Geoff hadn’t moved, and the old man hadn’t heard it either. Ryan turned his head, ear near pressed to the wooden door keeping him from the king’s side and strained to listen.

The grind of rock, a slow sound with pauses now and then. They grew louder, but only a little at a time. Ryan’s eyes darted up to look at Geoff quickly and confirmed he’d heard it too. A hand on the handle, the wooden door with it’s oiled hinges eased open slowly, silently.

Ryan kept his eyes sharp, watching the window across the room, big curtains that billowed with the gentle breeze from the warm night outside. Hooked to the stone under the window was a crude grappling hook. Eyes ablaze and a snarl on his lips, Ryan’s blade was unclipped from his back, a great blade, wider than his arm. He motioned for Geoff to stay back, and his lieutenant moved towards Gavin’s bed, the young lord was still fast asleep, curled up safe in his furs and silks, helplessly unaware of whomever was climbing the tower with intentions to end his life.

The sound of the grate of stone outside the window grew steadily louder until a hand grasped the edge of the sill and in an easy movement, someone pulled themself up and over the sill and in through the window, landing light on the floor. Ryan drew a slow breath, teeth a hard line where he held that breath, and as the assassin lifted their head to survey the room, they were confronted with the sheen of the great sword swinging down towards them.

Rolling out of the way, they hit one of the tables, making the contents shudder. Gavin took a breath, but stayed asleep, barely disturbed by the sound. Always such an unassuming young lord. Ryan pulled up before the sword struck stone, swinging wide, but just barely missing. The assassin, cloaked in black, shrouding most of their form, slid under the table, and rolled out the other side, putting the table between themself and Ryan. Around the other way was Geoff, and behind him, was their task. Eyes wandered to them, then snapped back to Ryan quickly.

A long, silver dagger was pulled from their boot, brandished defensively, should Ryan rush them again, they were ready. Not that they’d parry, especially against a sword that massive? It would snap the dagger clean in half.

Ryan did what the assassin assumed though, and rushed him, forgoing the noise he’d make doing so for Gavin’s safety. He flipped the table up an over the killer, and hissed a curse when they rolled out of the way, springing back towards him with knife at the ready. Gavin had sat up this time with a sharp gasp, and it was Geoff’s hand that settled on his shoulder, his own crude hunting knife ready to defend the young king should the assassin come close.

Ryan caught the knife to the cheek, just a knick to the face, a simple trick to bring the assassin’s arm close enough he could grab it. With a vice grip, he pulled them around, to put their back to him, turning to slam the pummel of his sword into the back of their head. The killer crumbled like a sack of stones, heavily collapsing on the floor. With the same angry expression on his face, he brought the blade of his sword down through their spinal column, blood spurting thick up the blade and over his armor. To make sure he’d done away with them for good though, he reached for a fistful of hair, and drew his blade across their throat, severing their head.

He could see the white of bone and the carnage he’d spread, blood pooling across the stone floor, sinking into the grooves. It would have to be cleaned, a good proper scrubbing after this.

He tossed the head away, and stood up straight to roll his shoulders.

A sharp exhale from the bed made him turn and look. Gavin melted in against Geoff who was slowly slipping his knife back into the sheath on the small of his back. Ryan could feel the blood speckled on his face, but his main concern, as it always was, was Gavin’s well being. He set his blade aside, crossing the room to kneel at his feet, one arm drawn over one knee, head bowed.

“Why’re you bending, you dolt. C-come here, let’s clean up your face. Geoff, get me a cloth and wet it in the basin.” There was a shake to Gavin’s voice, but he kept it level as best he could. It wasn’t the first would be killer, and it wouldn’t be the last. The first had reduced him to panicked tears.

Geoff skirted around the bed to do just what Gavin instructed and Ryan lifted his head to look at him. The king’s hand cupped one of his cheeks and thumbed away blood, only to smear it across his lovely skin.

“Loyal to the day you die, my knight,” Gavin said softly, looking him over, brushing hair out of his face.

Geoff returned with a damp cloth, handing it over to his king without a word. Gavin took it in hand and brought it up to Ryan’s face, using the corner to clean blood from his face, his own face a concentrated scowl. It made Ryan and Geoff both smile a little to see him concentrating so hard on something.

“Geoff, remove his armor, please. I’ll have you on sole guard tonight.” A twitch in Geoff’s face had him tilting his own, “Unless you have other thoughts?”

Shifting from foot to foot for a moment, he hummed, “There is a young lad, not much older than yourself really, who has been begging me to train him, to teach him. I’ve been hesitant, but Ryan convinced me earlier. I think guard duty beside me might do him some good. With your permission of course,” he gestured to the king, sitting in the bed, half covered by blankets, in nothing but a simple pair of silk underwear.

Gavin looked out towards the door before he shrugged a shoulder, “As long as you make sure I’m safe, and no one gets me up before midday tomorrow, I don’t care. You’ll have to tell the day watch that, but after,” he gestured wide to the gore splayed across his floor, “ _that_ , I don’t think I’ll be meeting with the council in the morning.” 

He looked up at Geoff with a grin, “By which I mean, if they whine about it, you have permission to tell them I said suck my knob.” He inclined his head back down at Ryan, not letting his eyes leave Geoff’s, “His armor, Geoff.”

It was rare when Gavin asked for things, or said please. He was king, and he knew it and he knew everyone else knew it. Sure there was some contest, but with his knights by his side, he wasn’t worried about anything. His loyal, strong knights.

Geoff unclipped the buckles on Ryan’s armor, pulling the blood spattered material away from his tunic, setting them aside where he could collect them up to get them washed in a few minutes. He was slow and methodical about it while Gavin cleaned his face and the little bit of blood that had gotten in his hair. Ryan was quiet under their hands, letting them fuss, his heart still in his throat from dispatching the killer.

When he was rid of his armor and clean of blood, Gavin lifted his chin to look at him and those sea blue eyes were like a storm, grey and distant. Gavin _tsked_ before he spoke up, “Come on, on your feet. Remove your shoes, come to bed with me, Ryan.”

Geoff picked up Ryan’s armor, stepping to the side so the man could stand, hair hanging loose in his face now. Gavin offered a hand and pulled him into bed. Geoff inclined his head, nodding to the both of them, “I’ll call for a maid to clean this up. One of the less squeamish ones. I’ll find Michael and send Ryan’s armor to be cleaned and set up watch at the door, sire.”

Gavin looked up at him, letting Ryan settle in next to him, petting through his hair a little. He was still shaking and it spurred Ryan into movement, catching his senses and reeling himself in. The king was far more important than he was, despite having just removed someone’s head. In truth it hadn’t been so bad. The spray of the warm blood across his face had made his cock stir.

“Thank you, Geoff. You’re dismissed.” Gavin nodded, melting against Ryan now that he’d shifted to sit up and let the slender king recline against him. He let his eyes shut when Ryan’s fingers smoothed through his fine hair.

Another little nod from the lieutenant before he slipped from the room. He puttered around, leaving the armor with one maid, recruiting another two to clean up the gore in the king’s room, and when that was settled, he left the castle for only a few moments to find Michael and wake him for guard duty.

Ryan wrapped an arm around Gavin’s back when Geoff had left and tilted his head up to make him meet his eye. He kissed him hard, holding him close and Gavin hummed happily, growling quietly into it, pressing back up against him. The king broke the kiss first, voice a little harsh, “You cut his head off.”

A shiver ran through him as he let his muscles remember the feeling of the give of flesh and bone under his blade, “I did. Was it good?”

Gavin grinned, showing off a row of straight, white teeth with a menacing edge to them, “Absolutely.” He sank against his knight a little, pointing, “Look at that, a smooth cut. I can see the shine of the spine from here. You did well, my knight.”

Ryan beamed under the praise, holding the king close. He pressed a kiss to his hair, “Anything to keep others from harming you.” Others, in a sense that he would harm him. The two knew between them, not that it was hard to see, that Ryan desperately wanted the crown. But all the same, he valued Gavin’s life in a way. He didn’t want him dead, but he didn’t want him to have the crown. He wasn’t fit for it, a short, lithe king made for a weak image to the enemy. Gavin was whimsical and did things as he pleased, when he pleased. A brat, a child king. Ryan still loved his tight ass and his long cock, but the crown didn’t belong atop the heathen's brow.

And Gavin knew full well Ryan meant to take the crown from him. He waited patiently for the day he’d make his move to take what he thought was rightfully his. Of course there would be a surprise waiting for him, but for once in his life, the man knew what secrets to keep.

Gavin sat up, hooking a leg over Ryan’s hip, settling himself down in his lap, straddling his legs. He pushed his fingers into his hair hard enough to yank his head back and he attacked his neck with bites and licks, suckles and kisses. Even with his head craned back, when the two maids opened the chamber door, freezing to see the two in the bed in such a scandalous position, his eyes tracked them. They knew how things went. Gavin wasn’t shy about sex, and he wasn’t about to stop what he was doing to keep a maid from blushing or to keep the guards from gossiping.

They bustled around, pulling a sheet between them before they worked on moving the body to the sheet and locating the head that had been tossed aside.

On the bed, Gavin groaned quietly, rubbing his hardening cock down against Ryan’s still clothed stomach. Those stormy eyes watched the maids work, watching the body and the drip of blood. His hands settled on Gavin’s hips and he rutted back, groaning into his mouth as he was caught in a hard kiss again, enough to make their lips sore. Already panting and excited, charged with adrenaline and fueled with the kill, Ryan’s defense of the king. He was not loyal to the crown, but he was loyal to the king. And when he was king, he’d be loyal to his crown, and loyal to his pretty little bedwarmer.

Ryan’s hand settled in the small of Gavin’s back, moving his head so he could bite the crook of his neck instead of Gavin’s onslaught of little marks. It would be enough to bruise, but with the king’s cowl, it would go unseen. The maids jumped at the loud moan that fell from Gavin’s lips and Ryan twitched in his pants.

Fumbling fingers pulled lacing on pants to pull Ryan’s cock free, thick with a wide head, Gavin shivered, licking his lips. The maids ducked their heads and blushed as they passed, carrying off the body, head and all in the sheet. The door was shut behind them. Gavin’s voice was low, husked, “If you don’t fuck me, I’m gonna throw you in the goddamn dungeon, Haywood. Hurry it up.”

Ryan reached to grab the oil from the small chest of drawers beside the bed that held the candle Gavin read by at night.

“Turn over, on your knees, let me see that hole. You don’t want it dry.” Ryan instructed right back, nothing but demands between the two.

Gavin growled in frustration, rolling his eyes but he did what he was told, just like any good subject would do. Bend for the true king, boy. Ryan shivered, sitting up a little as Gavin settled down, his ass in the air, his silk drawers pulled to his knees. His cock bobbed between his legs and Ryan licked his lips, wanting to eat him up. Gavin rest his cheek on his folded arms, looking back at him over his shoulders, impatiently huffing his name, “Ryan.”

With an arched brow he looked the king over with a smirk, shaking his head. He did uncap the oil though, just like he said he would, and poured a little of the slick fluid into the cleft of Gavin’s asscheeks, pressing fingers in to massage the oil in, pushing one finger into him. Gavin moaned, a sound so sweet, back arching to push his ass even farther into Ryan’s grip.

Ryan worked him over, slick fingers trailing to trace over his balls now and again, then back up to stretch him out, one finger at a time until he had pushed it up to three, stretching towards four. Gavin was drooling a little on his arm, the sheen there obvious in the light of the torches. Ryan smiled to see, Gavin’s growling and begging going unheard over the sound of his fingers pushing in and out of that slick hold, the feel of his walls clenching around him, the shine of the oil on his hands and all over Gavin, smeared up across his cheeks, and down his balls, his hole shining with it.

“Ryan, come _on_!”

The captain chuckled, pouring a little of the oil on his fingers so he could slick them over his own cock, aching hard against his stomach. He pulled his tunic off with the other hand and pulled Gavin back against him. Ryan pulled the king’s shoulder blades against his chest, an arm firm across his shoulders. Gavin let his head loll backwards and rest on Ryan’s shoulder, his back always a beautiful curve.

He spread Gavin’s legs wider by spreading his own before he lined himself, pulling him back onto his cock, letting him settle heavy in his lap. Gavin writhed, squirming and panting until he was settled completely, his ass against Ryan’s hips. He groaned and muttered Ryan’s name, praising him quietly, “You’re so fuckin’ thick, Ryan, Gods be damned.” There was already a sheen of sweat across his chest.

With the king trying to find some relief, some friction on his knight’s thick sword, the two maids returned, only to stop in the doorway. One look from Gavin, teeth bared and they skittered back out, the door slamming heavy behind them. The smell of the blood settling, the sweat clinging to skin, the oil, it was wonderful and he wasn’t about to let two old birds ruin his mood with soaps and stammered whispers.

Gavin ground down against Ryan, squirming in his grip, “Come on you prick, move. Fuck me already. I _will_ throw you in the damned dungeon, Ryan. I-In the cell with the leaking stones.”

He often threatened this when he wasn’t allowed to get his way, but not matter how much Ryan didn’t move, or in situations where he was the power bottom, settled in Gavin’s lap, or fucking himself backwards on the king’s cock, Gavin would threaten to toss him into the dark, dank dungeon. Never, to this day, had he been locked away down there. It was all hollow words and simpering, a child throwing a temper tantrum, trying to get his way.

Ryan pushed into him, pulling him hard against his chest to see that back bow, bracing his legs so he could fuck into that slick, tight hole in earnest. He had Gavin a melting puddle in his arms, reduced to whimpering and panting so easily. He had the king eating out of his hand. Not that it was difficult.

o0o

Pulling the mask off the head of the figure who’d tried to climb in the window to get to the king, it was found that it was a young man, though not one anyone knew. Ash blonde hair with a birthmark on his face. Or perhaps an old burn. He was clothed in simple things, a fabric that clung to his skin to make him seem smaller than he was.

Among his clothing, something curious was found. In the sheen of the fires, the Haywood family crest on a broach was turned over in hands. It was unmistakably the Haywood crest, the head of a bull with a crown suspended between its horns. They had always been an overly proud family, their bulls the largest, strongest, and most virile in the land.

The question arose, was the pin given, or had Ryan dropped it perhaps from the fight, the pin that clasped his cape to his armor? Had he stolen it, and tried to get to Ryan instead of the king, knowing he’d be outside the king’s door? It was hard to say, but it was very suspicious, and before long, word had spread through the castle, through all the guards and all the maids, that Captain Haywood was making advances to kill the king.

The only one who really knew the answer to the questions and gossip spreading through the castle like an unassuming plague was the Captain himself. A man who kept his past to himself, and the things he thought close at home in most respects. He was sometimes looser with the drink, or with those very close to him, but still a guarded man. Sometimes the maids would whisper among themselves about a look in his eye sometimes. A look when he watched out a window to the world, or a look when he watched the king when he knew their highness wasn’t looking. His eyes said more than his lips ever did.

o0o

Ryan plucked the goblet set next to Jack’s plate off the table, taking a drink of it before he rounded the table, leaning against one of the stone pillars here in the mess. He smiled, raising the glass in a greeting for his friend.

Jack blinked at him, wholly unimpressed with his antics. Ryan clicked his tongue, “Oh come on now Jack, lighten up.” He grabbed a goblet from farther down the table, empty, and filled it with wine, replacing the stolen drink with a fresh one, “See, problem solved.”

“Is there a reason you couldn’t have just done that for yourself instead of stealing mine?” Jack asked, drinking from the new cup regardless.

“The look on your face makes my day that much brighter. And besides, same cups, same wine.” Ryan chuckled, shaking his head before he nodded down at the books splayed across the table, Jack’s plate closest to him. “That’s a lot of work you’ve got there. Is something wrong?”

“You know as Master of Coin, it’s important I keep up to date with the monetary affairs of the kingdom, especially those of the king.”

“Is that what _all_ this is?” Ryan asked, rounding the table again to look over his shoulder at the books. It wasn’t really something he could make sense of. Such vital information out here in common areas like the mess would be dangerous if it not for the fact Jack was far more clever than that. He had a code and a system, and his charts made no sense without the guide, which wasn’t written on paper. He did well at his job, and it’s why Gavin was fond of his advice.

Ryan valued his friendship as much as he valued his Lieutenant’s friendship, and he hoped to keep him on as Master of Coin when he took the crown from that boy’s trembling, surrendering hands. Ryan pursed his lips, looking over all the charts and lists he couldn’t discern before he looked to his friend.

Jack looked between Ryan and his booking before he shrugged a shoulder, “I may also be doing some on the side work for some lords, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Ryan patted him on the back with a laugh, taking another sip of his drink before he reached, replacing the stolen cup with the new cup he’d given, walking off with it. “Good luck Jack, it looks like you’re going to need it.”

Before he was able to get too far away, Jack turned and called, “Ryan wait!”

The Captain turned to look at him, the goblet halfway to his lips, “Yes?”

“The king requested to see you, he’s in the main hall.”

With a knit brow, Ryan looked him over a time or two, swallowing hard, “Did he say what it was for? Or I guess, what did his messenger say?”

Jack’s eyebrows were high on his forehead, “Seems they found something incriminating on the body last night. I’d go before he thinks you’re keeping him!”

“Jack! Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” Ryan growled, panic crossing his features.

Raising his once stolen glass, he simply smiled and with goblet still in hand, Ryan turned tail to make his way through the corridors to the main hall, all the while grumbling about the penny pincher. He hoped to god that when he got there, the king wasn’t upset. That was the last thing he needed right now.

o0o

“And finally the wicked usurper comes to join us! Welcome, Captain of my Guard.”

The king’s voice stretched far down the hall, meeting Ryan as he pushed the double doors open. The hall was long, and he felt eyes on him the entire way, but kept his gaze strong and straightforward, trained on the king standing before his throne.

Ryan knelt as soon as he was at the foot of the stairs, staring at the carpet, his heart in his throat. He’d done so well so far to deceive them, to make them think he had no thoughts or wishes ill of the king. It was true he didn’t, he didn’t wish any harm come to Gavin. But that grown, the child simply didn’t deserve such power! He had been the last king’s favorite, and just because Gavin was his bastard child, and his only child, he took precedence over what would have been Ryan’s crown. he only want what was rightfully his.

Footsteps, then feet in his line of sight, the king wearing his good boots. The ones he wore for hunts. His hand pet over Ryan’s head and over his shoulder, taking the offered cup from him before throwing it down the length of the hall.

“How am I meant to trust you didn’t poison it? You think I’m stupid? I have ears, I hear the gossip. So many people whispered to me this morning that you-” Gavin grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking his head back so he could look into those pretty storm eyes, “You, are a bad apple on my tree. I thought I could trust you, and now I hear whisperings that you sent that _assassin_ to _kill me_?”

Ryan tried to keep his expression blank until he knew the king was finished ranting. He liked to talk sometimes, going on big speeches but ultimately not saying much. He could be patient. After all, it had been three years since Gavin had yanked the crown from his waiting hands like the spoiled child he was. God, even so he looked so good from where Ryan was on his knees.

“Are you really gonna fucking sit there and grin at me?” Gavin asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

He jammed his eyes shut, frowning hard, berating himself internally for not listening to what he had to say. It could have very well been his death sentence and he would have been fantasizing about how he looks begging for his cock. Ryan huffed a breath through his nose before he opened his eyes, his voice small to seem vulnerable and unassuming, “Please forgive me, my liege. I meant no disrespect.”

Gavin let go of his hair and pushed his head away, “No disrespect he says. You’re awful, you know that? A worm. I can’t believe I let you into my bed. I let you guard my door. How long have you been plotting, Ryan?”

When there was no answer, he demanded further, “How long?!”

Anything to get him out of this situation and free of the king breathing down his neck, Ryan decided that bending was easier than confronting him. Especially with the eyes of the council and the guard lining the walls. Coming in he’d even caught sight of Geoff’s fiery haired brat. Everyone was watching, everyone who’s words mattered in whether or not Ryan was able to get out of this at the end of the day or not.

He lowered his head again, “I would never hurt you, my king. I would never let harm come to you. As Captain of your Guard it is my sworn duty and something I take _very_ seriously.”

Gavin sighed, a long, tortured sound. He flopped heaving in his chair and watched the cowering guard effectively showing his belly to his Alpha. His better. His _king_. He looked away, watching the council and the guards all lining the walls down the hallway. His eyes scanned Ryan, bowing his head and waiting so patiently. He huffed a laugh, a somewhat bitter, angry sound.

“You want to prove you’re loyal, Ryan? Prove to me that all this whispering and gossip is lies fabricated to frame you? Do you want me to believe you when you say you don’t mean me any harm?”

Ryan didn’t look up, but lowered his head farther, voice a harsh whisper, “More than anything, my lord.”

Gavin laughed again and he sat up straighter, “On your feet then, Haywood.”

Standing as he was told, Gavin was already working the ties of his trousers. He tilted his head and gestured to Ryan, “Loose the armor. Tunic and shoes too.”

“M-my lord?” Ryan asked, the eyes on him making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“You’ll be skipping the dungeon and going straight to the guillotine, Ryan. I promise you that. Undress, now.” Gavin ordered, pulling his long, thin cock free from its confines. He watched Ryan with a hand on his dick, purring out, “Slowly.”

With a harsh swallow, he did what he’d been told to do, just as his king demanded, and started stripping off his armor, one buckle and one clasp at a time. His protection fell away like so many leaves off a dead tree, littering the ground around him in an unseemly mess. It was then followed by his tunic, and his boots were slipped off. He moved to put hands on the belt that kept his kilt in place, but Gavin cleared his throat.

Ryan looked up at him and he smiled, “Leave it on. With all these eyes, I’ll let you have _some_ of your dignity, at least.”

His hands fell away from his belt, falling to his side and stood stock still under the king’s eye, and all the eyes on him from up and down the hall. His wide shoulders, the way his muscles were drawn tight with anticipation, how his hair had been mussed up from removing his clothing. He tried not to let it all intimidate him. He was Captain of the King’s Guard after all, he had a reputation to uphold of being brutal and efficient, but all the same kind and clever. In truth, under the prying eyes, he felt small and young, nothing but a squire holding his wooden sword again.

“Ray,” the king spoke again, “Get me my oil, please.”

One of the other guards, a young recruit Ryan had become fond of stepped forward. He was a talent, potential hidden away but a stubbornness towards perfection that left him faulty and open. He had a lot to learn, but Ryan had hoped to be able to help him hone his skills into something useful someday. He set the bottle in the king’s hand and stepped away, but not before he caught Ryan’s eye, giving his Captain a sympathetic look. There were still people in the castle and it’s dominion that believed him to be innocent despite the incriminating evidence. It would have been so easy to use him as a scapegoat. Geoff had long since shut his eyes, unwilling to watch what was going on, even if he’d been ordered to stand.

Ryan was thankful he still had people on his side, even when everything lined up to make him out to be a plotting murderer. An assassin who killed others to keep the king’s head for his own. A snake in the grass with silver eyes and a poison tongue. Some of it might be true, in that he wished for the crown, but the whispers that he wished to see Gavin’s blood spilled…

He wanted to keep the boy in his bed, under his silks and furs, keep him by his throne and at his feet. He liked the current king quite a lot. He had a fire and a spirit to him. He spoke too much and he squawked when things didn’t go right. Ryan would defend him with his life. But the issue still stood that the child, born of the last king and a whore, had no right to the crown when it had meant to be his all along.

“Haywood!”

Ryan’s eyes snapped to meet the king’s, his mouth a thin white line, “Yes, your Majesty?”

Gavin was lounging in his chair, kicked back and almost relaxed, his cock hard against his ruffled clothing. He looked down at himself, then back up at Ryan, raising an eyebrow, “Do I have to make it an _order_?”

Eyes scanned over his cock, standing straight with the skin that had pulled back a bit to reveal the top of the head of his dick, shiny with precum, reddened from the work he’d already put into bringing it to attention. Ryan licked over his lips, chewing on the lower one for a moment before he stepped forward, lowering himself slowly until he was kneeling at the king’s throne.

The embarrassment of all but _performing_ in front of these people had his face red, stretching across the back of his neck, making his skin crawl. But he shut himself off, settling himself into the same trancelike state he often fell into when in battle. A state in which he could move and do, but he was not constrained by morality and embarrassment, of blood on his skin or eyes on his back.

He breathed a sigh of hot breath across Gavin’s cock before he lowered his head, bracing himself with one hand against the throne, the other hand holding him steady. A few gentle laps at the shiny head, the heady taste of cum on his tongue. Ryan swallowed it down, his eyes fluttering shut before he was able to do what his king had ordered.

A few fluttery kisses to the head of his cock before he was pressing wet kisses along the edge of his foreskin, licking at it and holding it between his lips to suckle on it. It tasted like musk and sweat and Gavin. He knew Gavin’s taste well but it wasn’t often he sucked the king off. Usually it was the other way around. Usually he could run the kid’s fine hair through his finger, and squeeze and tug when he did well, and fuck his pretty mouth when he got close. But now he was on his knees servicing the king.

Gavin’s fingers carded through Ryan’s hair and he moaned soft and sweet, that little chirp Ryan always reveled in, “Don’t tease, _traitor_.” His grip tightened and he smiled devilishly down at Ryan, the crown heavy on his brow, glinting from the sunlight streaming in the windows behind the throne.

Ryan closed his eyes and lapped at the head a few more times before he angled himself so he could slide his tongue between Gavin’s cock and the looser skin, the musk making it hard to think of anything else. Something he was glad for, honestly. The grip in his hair loosened and his scalp was grateful. He slid his tongue in under the folds of his foreskin slowly, closing his lips around the head to suckle at the precum leaking from his slit. Tongueing at his slit had Gavin setting his head fall back, his hips twitching just a hair up into Ryan’s mouth.

Ryan pulled his tongue from the folds, even though they were enough to make his head spin in a pleasant way before he lowered himself a little at a time, bobbing slowly to pull the king farther into his mouth, closer to his throat. He thankfully, had a good gag reflex, something Gavin had struggled with for years. He pulled his mouth back a time or two, panting hot breath across his damp cock, suckling on just his head so he could catch his breath. He lost himself to the sensation, the world falling away. He couldn’t hear the sound of the rest of the court or the shuffle of any of the guard’s armor. All that was left in him was the act.

After another few minutes of that, and the head of Gavin’s cock brushing the back of Ryan’s throat, swallowing around it, Gavin pulled sharply on Ryan’s hair, pulling him from his dick quickly enough Ryan’s teeth scraped the underside of it gently. Gavin’s face was bright red and he was panting hard, “S-stop. Stop.”

Lips puffy and red, throat a bit sore, he swallowed hard, his chest heaving a little, “S-sire?”

“On your feet, H-Haywood.”

Ryan did what he was told, promptly and orderly, ever the loyal knight to the crown. He picked up a hand to wipe his mouth, the taste of the boy king lingering there. Gavin plucked the bottle of oil Ray had given him off the arm of the throne, his voice still a little strained from the pleasure of coming close to his peak but backing down.

“Turn around, show me your ass.” Ryan felt those eyes on him again, his cock stirring at the order, but he hesitated. Gavin huffed at him, “Now, Ryan. The guillotine’s just been sharpened. Don’t disobey an order.” With a quick nod, he turned around, pulling his kilt up in the back up a bit before Gavin pushed his back, bending him over. Hair in his face, he stared at the cracks in the stonework that made up the floor. The king purred, “Good boy.”

The oil was cold on his tight hole, and he shivered, cursing himself for showing such weakness, but jammed his eyes shut to steel himself to it, his toes curling against the stone. The oil was slick and he could feel Gavin spreading it along his hold and against his crack, and when a finger was pressed into his underused hole, he gasped out a broken sound.

His face flushed and he whispered harshly, “H-highness, please.” It was a plea to stop. If he wanted to test his loyalty like this, they could find somewhere private. They could go somewhere where the eyes of the kingdom weren’t on him. Instead, Gavin heard it as a cry for more.

Two fingers had him shivering in pleasure. It felt good, but he was humiliated. The Captain of the King’s Guard, reduced to a whore bent and presenting his asshole for the king. More oil and three fingers wasn’t something that lasted long. He bit his lip tight between his teeth to keep from making noise, to keep at least some of his dignity. Ryan understood why Gavin was doing this. If he submitted under the king’s hand, in everything, his loyalty was strong. And to Gavin it was. The crown was a different story. He would bend if that was asked of him though, if he had play bitch for the Alpha, he would. 

Gavin’s words caught his attention behind him, “You’re dripping, look at you. I could slide right in.” The king shivered at his own naughty words before he swatted Ryan’s asscheek, hard enough to make him yelp in surprise.

“In my lap, face them.”

Ryan turned to look over his shoulder at him, the oil trailing down the inside of his thigh, “F-Face them? My king, yo-you can’t be serious.”

“I’m going to hold you like you held me last night, you welp. After you killed that man to protect me.” He huffed, “Or was it to make yourself look good, Ryan?”

He could only stare down at his king, still unbelieving that he had nothing to do with the assassination attempt the night before. He closed his eyes and let out a slow, shaking breath.

“In my lap, Haywood.”

With a low growl, he did what he was ordered, climbing up into the throne awkwardly until he was able to settle himself down onto Gavin’s cock, his shins on either side of his thighs, knees settled into the plush material of the seat of the throne. Gavin lined himself up and held onto one of Ryan’s hips. He brushed the head of his dick against his hole, still slick and stretched with oil before he pushed himself in, enough to sheath half of his cock, and eased Ryan down the rest of the way.

A hand looped around the front of him, settling at his throat, pulling his back into a pretty bow. The other hand alternated between pinching his hip and his nipples, until they were puffy and red, impossible to miss on his smooth, pale chest. He stayed still and didn’t let Ryan move for longer than Ryan wanted to admit, just teasing him, making him groan and pant.

Never once did the king touch his dick though, hard and straining, bobbing at their slight movements and the twitches of his own hips when he he was pinched, or Gavin nipped the side of his neck or his ear. He could feel the fabric brushing against him, making him almost raw. Just on the other side of pleasurable, into pain.

Ryan knew everyone could see the tent his cock made under his kilt, but he couldn’t make himself look at them. He wanted to know who was enjoying his humiliation, and who had enough decency, enough mercy to spare him another set of eyes. Ryan just couldn’t open his eyes to look at them.

Gavin still hadn’t moved, and neither had Ryan, mostly because he knew he’d be reprimanded if he acted out of order. The sun moved, the plants grew, babies were born when and if the king was good and ready. Life ran on _his_ time.

He gasped out a strangled sound when Gavin started to work his hips up into him, holding his throat still to keep his back bowed, though it didn’t cut off oxygen. Ryan was thankful for that at least. It was fast and hard, the king having taken his time to recover from nearly coming from Ryan’s mouth alone, but the tight stretch of his hole had still been enough to set the fire in his belly even hotter.

Gavin wasn’t particularly girthy, but he had a long cock, one that pushed deep, and with his hard, fast thrusts, it had Ryan seeing stars immediately, mouth hanging open. His dick bobbed under the kilt at the slams of the king’s hips, and Ryan found himself clutching at one of the arms of the throne, back bent for him, and the other hand holding onto Gavin’s arm like a lifeline. He didn’t dissuade him from his actions, nor did he egg him on. He simply held on.

Spots of black and white and yellow and red danced in front of his eyes, his prostate being constantly stimulated by the king’s long, thick dick. Ryan was panting and pushing his hips back down against Gavin’s with each of his upward thrusts, trying to meet him, to match him. It wasn’t often Ryan was on the receiving end of anything like this, so he was overstimulated and overwhelmed, but it felt so good.

All sound had fallen away save for his own panting and the blood pounding in his ear. He could hear faintly Gavin’s panting, and muttered curses, and the slap of their skin, thighs and ass and balls all wet with sweat and oil. Gavin’s grip on his throat tightened and he inhaled a sharp breath as heat laced through him, deep into his core. The sensation of the warmth and the sudden lack of oxygen had him painting the inside of his kilt, staining it with his seed.

The king’s hips stilled slowly and Ryan melted a little in his grip when he was allowed to draw a breath, bringing another wave of stars to his vision. He gasped for air and Gavin nuzzled at the back of his neck, purring for him quietly, “Well done, Ryan. You really will do anything for your king.”

With Ryan still pliant in his lap, Gavin raised his voice, strained and hoarse, “Council dismissed.”

There was shuffling and movement, and for the first time since they’d started, whispering. He couldn’t make any of it out, but he hoped it was the spreading of his show of loyalty to their king. Gavin carded fingers through his hair backwards, pulling his locks out of his face before pressing a few kisses to his neck.

“We sure fooled them, huh?” Gavin chuckled.

A soft, tired huff, “What are you talking about?”

“I knew you were loyal. Always have been, always will be. You care too much about me. Might not want me being king, but you won’t let anyone hurt me. Not even you.” Gavin pulled himself out of Ryan slowly.

He could feel cum dripping from his hole, down the curve of his ass and slick on his balls, but he only sighed softly, “You’re a kinky fuck, you know that?”

Gavin snickered against him, running fingers over abused flesh on his neck, his nipples, down over the hem of his kilt, “I’ve got you in my bed all the time, how could I not be?”

Ryan melted a little further, knowing he could bathe after he’d caught his breath and just shook his head. He licked over his dry lips before he asked, “Next time, can you defend me or something? Traitor is kinda harsh, my king.”

A few more soft kisses to his nape, chuckling, “This was far more fun. You should be accused of treason more often, my knight.”

Ryan groaned, shaking his head, “I’ll call the maids to fill the bath.” He shifted off the king’s lap, stumbling a step or two before he was able to take the few steps to collect up his things, his kilt a mess.

Gavin lounged back in his throne, spent cock limp against his leg as he watched Ryan leave with his discarded armor, watching the way he limped ever so slightly, and couldn’t help but smiling to himself. He was going to have to send for more pins of the crest made so they could continue to play this game.


End file.
